


see who I am (break through the surface)

by Iverna



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Captain Swan - Freeform, F/M, Miss Congeniality AU, spy AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:41:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27632914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iverna/pseuds/Iverna
Summary: Emma and Killian have been teammates for a while now. He flirts; she rebuffs him. And it doesn’t mean anything... right?A little Miss Congeniality-inspired AU, because just for once I wanted the scene where the girl gets dressed up and the guy suddenly takes notice to go differently.
Relationships: Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Emma Swan
Comments: 18
Kudos: 119
Collections: Captain Swan Movie Marathon





	see who I am (break through the surface)

Emma took a deep breath, cast one last glance at the mirror, and turned towards the door, trying to ignore the way her stomach was fluttering.

It wasn’t like she’d never gotten dressed up before. In her previous life, she’d played the honey trap a thousand times; it was one of her best techniques for catching bail skips, and she hadn’t forgotten how to do it. She hadn’t even needed any help with the make-up.

But it wasn’t her usual role now. These days, she was usually behind the scenes, crouched by the back door, perched on the roof. It was usually Mary Margaret or Ruby who played this role, depending on the situation. Emma was part of a team now, and she was one of the guys, and she liked it that way.

She never even got dressed up for the occasional night out. She always showed up in a sweater and jeans, drinking beer, playing darts, joining the others in ribbing Victor when he failed to pick up the hot girl at the bar.

But Ruby was still injured and Mary Margaret was pregnant, so she’d volunteered and assured Regina that she could handle it. The doubt from Victor and August had only spurred her on. Just because she _didn’t_ usually put effort into her appearance didn’t mean she _couldn’t_.

Butterflies stirred in her stomach as she walked the short distance from the ladies’ room to the office where her team was holed up. Not because of Victor, or August, or the mission. No, she was honest enough to admit that her nerves were all because of Killian.

Killian, who was never short of a smart remark or innuendo-laden comment. Killian, whom she had no business thinking about like this, because they were friends. He flirted with her like he flirted with everyone, she rebuffed him like she rebuffed everyone, neither of them meant it, they both laughed. It was good. Safe. Steady.

Okay, so her stomach swooped a little when he smiled at her, and she’d spent more time than she wanted to admit imagining what it might be like if he _did_ mean it. She didn’t date, as a rule; relationships complicated things, especially when they worked together, and she wasn’t good at them anyway. But with Killian, it just felt... right. Easy. Like it could actually work. She had to hold herself back from sitting next to him, drawing him into every conversation, seeking out his company whenever she could. He was _magnetic_ , damn him.

She didn’t know how he’d react, and worse, she didn’t know how she _wanted_ him to react. She didn’t want him to look at her differently—or rather, she _did_ , but not because of this. If it took a fancy dress and make-up to make a guy notice her, he didn’t deserve her.

She was resolved on that point. She just hoped that resolve would stand up to Killian Jones and his infuriatingly tempting smile.

* * *

She opened the door and stepped into the office, where most of her team was gathered around the table with laptops, documents, tablets and phones scattered around them. Killian, she saw at once, wasn’t there.

The first reaction was, predictably, from Will. He gave a loud whistle, a grin splitting his face. “Hey, check _you_ out!”

Beside him, Robin gave a long-suffering shake of his head and a rueful smile; from his other side, David cuffed him behind the ear.

Will shrugged, unabashed. “What? She cleans up good.”

“I’ll say.” August, leaning against the wall near the back, shot her a wink. “Nice dress.”

“Thanks,” Emma said, and winked back. “You can have it once this job’s done.”

August made a face at her, and she grinned.

“Great, I’ll help you take it off,” Victor said. He was looking at her with exactly the expression he usually wore around hot girls in bars, his eyes lingering on her curves with unashamed interest.

Emma didn’t dignify that with a response. She just rolled her eyes and turned to Regina, putting one hand on her hip and tossing back her curled hair. “Well? Will this do?”

Regina gave her one of those cool, appraising she did so well, before giving a nod. “Yes. Nice work. Where’s Hook?”

“How would I know?” Emma asked as she sat down, ignoring the jolt the name gave her. “I thought he was here.”

“Thought he might’ve stopped by to help you out,” Will said with a cheeky grin.

Fighting back the blush that wanted to creep up her neck, and trying not to think about the implication and how much she wanted there to be something to it, Emma arched an eyebrow at him. “You think Killian can do a better winged eyeliner than me?”

“He went to check on the truck,” David growled, nudging Will in the back again. “Told you.”

As if on cue, the door opened again, and Killian Jones swaggered through it. He was playing back-up on this mission, but he was dressed for the occasion anyway, the better to blend in: suit and tie, shiny dress shoes, hair neatly combed back. Not Emma’s favourite look, but he was handsome all the same, in that dark-haired, roguish, kill-him-or-kiss-him sort of way. His blue eyes swept the room as they always did; his gaze found Emma, and her heart jumped—

He sent her a brief smile, the usual there-you-are-hi one, before turning to Regina. “Smee called,” he said. “He has the truck ready.”

Something inside Emma withered at his lack of reaction—with relief or disappointment, she couldn’t tell. Both, maybe.

Regina nodded. “Good. I’m working on the surveillance, you finish getting the team prepped.”

“Aye, aye,” he said, his tone not _quite_ irreverent.

“Hey Hook, check it out,” Will said, grinning. “Swan is _hot_.”

“Smoking,” Victor added appreciatively.

Next sparring session, Emma was going to punch both of them. Hard.

Killian cast Will a look that was somewhere between confusion and impatience. “I know. I do hope that’s not the height of your perceptiveness, we’re rather counting on you for surveillance.”

Somewhere in Emma’s stomach, the butterflies began to stir again, but it was different this time. He hadn’t said that for effect, or for her. He was focused on the mission.

_I know._

Like it was obvious, like it was a given. Like he really thought of her as...

“Seriously, that’s all you’ve got?” Victor asked, sounding incredulous. “ _Look_ at her!”

“I just did.” Killian dropped into his seat and looked over at Emma again, flashing a crooked smile. “You do look stunning, love. He won’t know what hit him.”

“ _I_ still don’t know what hit me,” Victor said, shaking his head ruefully, playing it up. Emma was definitely going to punch him. _Go easy on the medic_ wasn’t going to save him this time.

Killian gave him a look that fell just short of a sneer. “Are you telling me this is the first time you’ve—what, she puts on a Gucci dress and suddenly you’ve got eyes?”

“It’s Versace,” Regina muttered, her disdain clear even as she kept typing on her laptop.

“Victor has just realised I’m a girl,” Emma said, as if she was announcing that he’d won a prize. Trying to look like she was just bantering with the guys, like her heart wasn’t still tripping over itself, like she wasn’t in the middle of realising that Killian _had_ in fact taken notice of her.

It just wasn’t a recent thing. And it hadn’t taken a dress and make-up.

Killian followed her cue at once, raising his eyebrows. “Impressive. We really do work with the best, nothing gets past them. How _did_ you manage to hide it all this time, Swan?”

“I knew you were a girl,” Victor protested. “But the way you usually look, it doesn’t exactly show much.”

It almost hurt. Almost. It might have, if she’d cared about what Victor Whale thought, or if she didn’t _know_ that she could make a guy stop in his tracks if she spent enough time in front of a mirror.

Or if Killian wasn’t smirking at her like they were on the same side, his eyes lingering—not on the dress, but on _her_.

Emma gave Victor a contemptuous once-over. “Enjoy it while it lasts, because that’s all you’re ever gonna see.”

He flashed a charming grin. She knew it was his charming grin, because it was the one he always flashed the girls in the bar. “Aww, come on, don’t break my heart.”

“ _Please_ break his heart,” David muttered. “Or his nose. Maybe that’ll shut him up.”

“I’d forgive her if she did it looking like that,” Victor said, still grinning.

“All right,” Killian said, shooting Victor an annoyed look. “Whale is an idiot, water is wet, Swan is gorgeous. Does anyone have any other world-shattering revelations, or can we get on with the job?”

Emma’s heart gave another leap at the way he said it— _gorgeous_ , just like that, like it was obvious, like—

“Please let’s,” Regina said, looking up from her laptop, all business. “We’ve got the trap, we’ve got the truck. Emma, do you have your wires yet?”

“Uh,” Emma said, scrambling to remember. She’d been called gorgeous before, damn it. There was no reason for her heart to go haywire over it. “No.”

“I’ll help you,” Victor offered at once.

“In your dreams, buddy,” Emma shot at him, even as David growled, “I don’t think so.”

The others chuckled, and it was back to business. David helped Emma get her earpiece in place and connect it, and the others geared up too. Emma tried and failed to look away as Killian took off his suit jacket and secured the arm holster over his dress shirt. She’d never really bought into the guy-with-a-gun thing, but he made it look good.

Then again, he made everything look good. It wasn’t the gun, or the holster, or the shirt; it was the way his muscles moved under the fabric, the sure, practiced movements, the furrow of concentration on his brow. She wanted to smooth it away with her hand—and maybe mess up his hair a little while she was at it. It looked far too neat.

“Right,” David said in a low voice, leaning away from her. “Just gotta wipe off that drool and you’re good to go.”

“Huh?” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Shut up.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “You know, you _could_ just put him out of his misery and ask him out.”

“ _His_ misery?” she echoed—and realised too late what she’d just given away.

David shrugged, still chuckling. “His, yours... same difference by now, I think.”

Her first thought, driven by long-standing habit, was that there was no way. Killian wasn’t interested in her. He was just... Killian. He flirted and joked and made inappropriate comments in her ear during missions. It meant nothing that he thought she was gorgeous.

Except it really didn’t feel like nothing.

David raised his eyebrows, and Emma realised that she’d let the silence linger for a little too long. To recover, she glared at him. “Listen—”

“Swan,” Killian called. “Are you ready?”

“Yep!” She all but jumped to her feet, tugging her dress into place and sweeping her hair over her shoulder. “Good to go. Let’s do this.”

* * *

The mission went well—more or less, anyway. The aftermath was the usual chaos as the police arrived, the would-be assassin was led away, and the bystanders milled around looking shocked. Emma’s hair was no longer sleek and shiny, and she took the first opportunity to ditch the heels.

Feeling more herself again in sneakers, and a sweater she’d borrowed from David over her expensive (and now slightly ruined) dress, she caught up to Killian as he was leaving the building. “Hey.”

“There you are!” He grinned at her and held the door so she could follow him out. He was still dressed in his mission get-up, though he’d lost the jacket, the tie, and several buttons on his shirt, which was dirty and un-tucked. The look suited him, especially with the way his hair was once again mussed, a few strands falling into his face.

It was really very unfair, the way he got _more_ attractive when his clothes and hair were a mess. She swallowed. “Sorry, had to get changed. I hate heels.”

He glanced down at her feet as they fell into step. “They make for fantastic weapons, though.”

“Eh.” She shrugged lightly, as if considering. “I still prefer knives.”

He winked at her. “Always knew there was a reason I liked you, Swan.”

He shouldn’t be allowed to look like that, and say things like that, all light-hearted and casual and like he meant it. She scrambled to keep her mind in banter mode. “What? I thought it was my charm.”

“The knives are _part_ of your charm,” he said, like it was a secret. “Nice work back there, by the way.”

“Thanks. You too.” And that was that; they could go back to discussing the mission, like teammates. Professional, friendly, at a safe distance.

All the things she didn’t want with him.

Emma hesitated. But it was going to be playing on her mind, and she was sick of it already. She’d already done enough wondering about the whole thing. Enough to realise that, while she had never taken Killian’s flirting seriously and treated it all as a joke, he had clearly taken her rebuffs as such.

She shot him a grin. “So. You really think I’m gorgeous?”

His smile faltered somewhat, and he looked almost apprehensive. “Aye, and I want to apologise if I was out of line.”

“What? Why?”

“I wasn’t making a pass at you,” he assured her. “Just an observation.”

“Oh. No, no, it’s fine, I...” Her words were running away from her, and she shook her head to cut herself off before it got worse. “I just didn’t realise.”

“That you’re gorgeous?” The smile was back, crooked, teasing.

“ _No_.” She nudged his arm with her shoulder as they walked. “That you think so.”

He heaved a long-suffering sigh. “I work with such observant people.”

“Hey.”

He laughed; after a moment, so did she. They walked in silence for a moment, then Emma gave herself a mental kick. “You know, I was—”

“I don’t want to—” he started at the same time.

They both stopped. She made a gesture for him to keep talking, but he shook his head. “No, go ahead, love. Please.”

“Well.” She took a breath. “I was just—you know, maybe, if—we should have dinner sometime.”

That caught him off-guard, his eyes widening ever so slightly for just a moment. “Oh?”

“Or lunch,” she amended quickly. “Or just, you know, food, or whatever—”

The shock was giving way to a bright grin. “I would love to have dinner with you. Or lunch. Or food, or whatever.”

Something stupid and warm and wonderful stirred in Emma’s chest. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He brushed his hand against hers, fingers reaching.

Heart tripping, the happy warmth in her chest fluttering, she reached back.


End file.
